Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TO W.E. BURGHARDT DU BOIS, by SCUDDER MIDDLETON


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

TO W.E. BURGHARDT DU BOIS, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: The race that wheedles mercies from its god
Last Line: Proud of that ancient ebon of its face!
Subject(s): Du Bois, William Edward B. (1868-1963); Reform And Reformers; Writing & Writers


The race that wheedles mercies from its God
Shall be the beggar always at His door;
It shall debase itself before the rod,
And live among the shadows ever more.
But when, with growing pride in self, it stands,
Asking no favors of the clouds or men,
To it God reaches down His mighty hands,
To it are all tomorrows given then.

You know those hands! Beyond the cottonfields,
Beyond the creaking tree, the faggot's flame,
Your eyes have caught the vision of a race
Rising by greater truths than pity yields.
And you have made it dream, speak out its name --
Proud of that ancient ebon of its face!





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